I believe we all know from my mourning at the end of Friday Night Lights and One Tree Hill (I’m not even linking the posts; they’re pathetic; I’m so sappy and attached) that I get a little emotionally involved with the characters in my “stories.”
When it comes to shows that I’m not binge-watching on Netflix, I’ve given them a pretty significant chunk of my life. Meredith and I have been friends since college. I can remember accidentally catching an episode during second season and hurriedly finding a season one DVD to borrow so I could catch up (we didn’t have DVR, Hulu, or any of these new-fangled contraptions back then). She and Derek have been up and down. They were finally in a good place. It looked like Shonda was going to let us have a happy ending. Then in true Shonda fashion, she didn’t.
Poor Meredith can’t catch a break.
So while I can’t live without MerDer, I’m pretty grateful I don’t live in a world created by screenwriting and television. I get to live in my little house with my real family and navigate life’s challenges with a Big God at the helm. Even if I do let myself get caught up in some fiction every now and again.
(Maybe I get more caught up than I’m willing to admit. Oops! Haha!)